To Carry the Horn

Chapter 10-3

George glanced over at a boy in his teens, slender and not quite full grown, who looked startled at the match-up. Well, I told him I didn’t know much and I guess he’s taken me at my word, he thought. I must be half again his weight. Hope I can keep from hurting him.

He walked over and introduced himself. “Where I come from we do very little combat training in earnest, so assume I know nothing.” Brynach looked dubious but held his tongue.

Hadyn began with unarmed defense exercises. George knew just enough to bend his knees and keep a lower center of gravity, but he was completely inexperienced in this area and let his partner take the offense.

Brynach danced around him looking for an opening. When he incautiously circled in too closely, George stepped toward him, turning away at an angle, then put his hands to the floor to support his weight, and swung his back leg around low behind him to sweep Brynach’s legs out from under him. They were both surprised, Brynach, because he hadn’t expected it, and George, who had never thought it would work. He leaned over to give Brynach a hand getting back up.

“I never tried that before,” he said, apologetically.

“How’s it done?” Brynach asked.

George showed him the direction and weight shift he’d used. He looked around and saw that the other pairs were mostly using grab and leverage moves, rather than blows.

There were only three hand blows the untrained George could think of that would be useful in real combat: a punch to the solar plexus, a chop to crush the windpipe, or a palm thrust to the nose for bone splinters to the brain. He could see that the common leather jerkin and other torso clothing worn here might make a chest blow less effective, and that the closed shirts, stocks, and other throat defenses might be adequate as well. He had no experience in facial blows and thought the risk of an amateur breaking his hand in the process was fairly high. Most of all, he didn’t know how to practice any of these without running the risk of serious damage to his partner.

This left wrestling, about which George knew less than nothing, and his inexpert recollections of oriental martial arts maneuvers staged by the movies. With his weight advantage he was willing to close and grapple, but again he had no idea how to achieve any effective result without hurting his partner.

He decided to set a trap. As they circled, Brynach staying in front to avoid another leg sweep, George dangled his left arm out in front temptingly, and Brynach went to grab it. Instead, George caught his arm in a strong grip, brought his right hand down to join it, and dropped backwards into a roll using his weight and Brynach’s momentum to pull him off balance up and over his shoulder onto the floor with a thud.

That caught the attention of some of his neighbors, who paused to watch as he demonstrated what he’d done to Brynach. “This is part of an organized system of martial arts which I have seen but never studied. I can’t teach it, I just know of a few gimmicks,” he said.

He returned to the sparring. No fight was ever won by defense, so he determined to wade in and take his licks. He didn’t want to hurt his partner, so he decided to aim for pinning him flat. Brynach was game and stung him as he dodged, but couldn’t move him. George got a hip behind him as they grappled and was able to toss him to the floor.

Hadyn came by to offer criticism. “Brynach, what is it you’ve learned, now?”

“Big doesn’t necessarily mean slow. How do you counter size and strength?”

Hadyn turned to George. “What shall you tell him?”

“Keep a lower center of gravity and make the most of the strength you have, and remember, your center of gravity will keep changing as you finish growing. Counter my weakest positions with your strongest and avoid the rest, or use them against me if you can.”

He considered for a moment. “Also, I think you underestimate my reach. You dodge the hand where it is, not where it could be. It’s not how long my arm is, it’s how long the whole lunge is. As in sword fighting, a pivot of the hips or a lunge changes all the angles and closes the distance more quickly than you’re prepared for.”

“And what have you learned, then?” Hadyn asked George.

“How very little I know about unarmed combat. I especially have no idea how to inflict serious damage in a real fight. I haven’t had a fist fight in earnest since I was a boy. That means I also don’t know how to spar without injuring my partner.” That last was said with a significant dark look at Hadyn for the uneven match-up.

Hadyn smiled. “Worried you’ll break him if you get lucky, is it? You hold your body well, and you have some sensible moves, but you need to build this from the ground up. Brynach, spend the rest of this time with him, on the basics.”

George was mollified to realize Hadyn had set the match unevenly not to humiliate him but to give another student an opportunity to practice outside of his weight class with a better chance of success. This isn’t a roomful of people waiting to watch you fail, he thought. You’re just another student here.

For the next half hour, Brynach showed him some standard positions, moves, and counter moves, and gave him a few kata-like sequences to practice on his own. George thought this might be the first time Brynach got to teach someone who knew less than he did, and he knew from experience how that solidifies one’s own understanding. His respect for Hadyn’s expertise as an instructor grew.

After a break of a few minutes for water, the group switched to weapons work, shrugging on some chest protection. This time Hadyn matched George with an older man who handed him a blunt saber and bowed.

“I’m Helyan.” He was calm and confident.

George introduced himself and warned, “I had some training many years ago, but not in earnest, for real combat.”

They sparred for a while. Helyan got in several strikes as George learned in painful detail just how rusty he was, but gradually he fell back into the old groove and began to push the attacks, getting through Helyan’s defense for an occasional strike.

They paused for a moment to catch their breath. Helyan said, “You need to press more. I can feel that you’re held back by something.”

“You’re right. I learned this as a sport, not as a fighting skill. There were rules about acceptable moves and, of course, you weren’t supposed to try and really hurt your partner.”

“Well, there are no rules in battle. Avoid head blows while sparring, for now, but otherwise have at it.”

This time, when they resumed, George went on the attack immediately. He pressed Helyan back as they sparred, even though Helyan was able to deflect most of the strikes. George could feel himself getting into the rhythm of it, shutting out distractions and focusing on predicting the next moves of his opponent. Eventually he backed Helyan up to a wall and they stopped.

Helyan conceded. “Much better. What are your thoughts?”

“I can see some of the limits of what I’ve learned. Many of your successful strikes would’ve been illegal by my rules, and so I had no planned defenses for them, leaving me completely open. For real combat, I’d like a main-gauche of some kind, a weapon for the left hand, or at least something wrapped around my arm.”

“You’re stronger on offense than defense, it’s true. Are you familiar with small sword?”

“I’ve trained with something similar.”

Helyan gave George a light rapier with a blunted point. “Let’s see.”

George went on the attack, beating the foible of Helyan’s blade, the front part, with the forte of his own, the strong back part, repeatedly. He got in a lucky prise en fer that popped the blade out of Helyan’s grip, but was unable to duplicate the maneuver. Helyan got in most of the touches.

Hadyn observed the last few engagements. “What do you think, Helyan?”

“He can move to the intermediate group, with some coaching.”

Hadyn raised an eyebrow at George expectantly for his commentary.

“I need to get past the sport restraints into real combat usefulness. I’ve lots of holes in the basics.”

“You also need to learn knife fighting, one and two-handed, just for the fundamentals.”

George agreed. He eyed the wall of medieval weapons. “I take it that’s for the advanced classes?”

Hadyn laughed. “No one’s expert in all of those. You’ll pick your favorites and learn a bit about defense against many of the others.”

“What about weapons at a distance? Bows?”

“Aren’t bows part of your hunting training already?”

George considered how to explain. “Our weapons from a distance are completely different, and I’m told they won’t work here.”

Hadyn said, “I’ll set you at shooting practice next time, if you’re still here.”

The training session was winding down. The participants removed their protective gear and started to don the clothing they had discarded. George shook Helyan’s hand and thanked him, making a point of seeking out young Brynach and doing the same.

Everything hurt. His muscles were sore from the unaccustomed exercise, and there would be plenty of bruises soon.

He checked his watch. There should be time to bathe before the gathering for Iolo.

As George entered the baths, he discovered Eurig once again relaxing in solitary possession of the soaking pool. He joined him quickly, sighing appreciatively as the hot water began to do its work.

Eurig looked over his latest collection of rising bruises. “Did you badly irritate someone, or do I recognize souvenirs from Hadyn? I remember the look from when I used to train.”

“It’s always sobering to confirm how little you actually know. I’m useless as a warrior here, though I suppose that can be fixed. It’s just that our ways are so different.”

“You’re thinking of guns, aren’t you?” At George’s surprised look, he continued. “Yes, we do know about them, and there’ve been some enterprising trials, but they don’t work here. Ceridwen supervised most of the experiments—you might want to speak to her about her conclusions.”

George shook his head. “It’s not just that guns have replaced many of your weapons, it’s that we don’t have much of a warrior culture anymore. Except for our professional soldiers,” he said. “I know how to shoot, though many of us don’t, but I don’t know much about knife fighting or unarmed combat, and that’s still as basic a need as ever.”

He chuckled ruefully. “There’s an old Persian saying about training a man to ride, shoot, and speak the truth. I figured I was done with that, but here it turns out I must go to school again, to reclaim the honor.” After a pause, he said, “But I must say it feels good, feels real. We’ve buried so much of that in our world, pretending we’ve somehow grown beyond it.”

Eurig nodded. “It’s good to do the work you feel born for. Many of my kind try on one thing after another, and are never satisfied. We live long, but some can waste the whole time never settling and growing deep roots.

“My Teg and I have been together all our lives, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s not that we don’t grow and change, it’s that we do it together and grow into each other at the same time. It’s hard to explain the worth of that to these youngsters.”

Envying that lifelong partnership, George changed the subject. “Can you tell me what will happen this evening for Iolo? Where and when?”

“They’ll take him down to the manor gates and the procession will go north from there to Daear Llosg, the Burnt Ground, where all roads meet. It’s not far, but most will ride, and there will be some carriages. We’ll assemble at the south curtain wall gate. Would you care to ride with us?”

“Thanks, that’s most kind of you.”

“I’ll knock on your door when we’re ready to come down, in a few minutes.”

Back in his room as George dressed, he debated adding the borrowed saber to his robes. If I put it on and no one else is wearing a sword, I can always take it off and hang it on a hook in that first room with the weapons on the walls and reclaim it later.

When he opened his door to Eurig’s knock, he was introduced to Tegwen in the corridor. She was a comfortable sort, with gray hair and plump cheeks, and she looked as if no crisis could ever disturb her. Her brown brocaded skirt was split for riding. George bowed over her hand, and she smiled at him approvingly.